A wall of a fort, about to be sieged by wolves.

“Where’s it running off to, Big Bro?” asked Dan.

Beside Henry hurting his brain trying to unravel this dumb plot had been the handsome meathead, the kid's shirtless chest and thoughtless face smeared with mud patterned in a Celtic warrior design. One of the meatheads had an artistic bent and had painted them all to look cooler for the looming battle. Henry, shaking up his habits, had allowed some to be smeared on the cheeks of his monkey mask, too.

“Cleaning up the stragglers,” Henry answered.

Indeed, as this was said, a scream could be heard of an unlucky soul getting devoured.

Not long after, Henry received a message that his final Cutthroat had fallen, that wolf-napping plan dead and done before he could snatch the final wolf for this tutorial quest.

The Wolf Emperor didn't stop there. It took its pack and continued to roam about the forest eating people trying to reach the fortress.

Henry, reading its movements, was even more certain that it'd return very soon to siege them, probably with every wolf in the forest.

That would be when he grabbed his final pup, before stealthily exiting.

With the time left, Henry re-evaluated his plans over and over again, surveying the fort for potential vulnerabilities, for what he could accomplish with the tools on hand.

Of the 800-strong battalion that’d set out, 97 Villagers, 88 trainees, and 7 NPC trainers had returned.

The trainees were lined along the fort wall as well, armed with the crude spears fashioned by the meatheads, the weapons long enough to stab the wolves from afar.

The Villagers had split up to perform different tasks. Some were guarding the gap in the tree wall, some were posted along the fort walls or up watchtowers, others were in the centre of the fort using magic to shape the earth into an inner keep that would serve as a last-ditch defensive measure. Directing the Villagers was the demoted Beast Tamer, who’d reclaimed command after his replacement had been eaten. He and his sabre tooth were patrolling about, firing off orders to shore up holes in the defence, Henry slipping him the occasional hint.

As for the NPC trainers, they were situated at the fort’s southern side, awaiting a signal to enter an underground tunnel which led to the river bunker. The tunnel was necessary because Henry’d extended the tree wall around the fort’s entire perimeter, blocking overland access to the river. Among the NPCs were also a select few Villagers. After the Beast Tamer captain had retaken command, Henry’d felt comfortable-ish revealing the evacuation plan to him. The guy seemed principled enough to keep his subordinates from murdering the NPCs to steal the boats, and him taking over the evacuation reduced Henry's workload, allowing him to focus on himself.

Henry sent a message to his guildmate coming to rescue him.

-Bob From San Francisco: Cords.

-Caramel_Sprinkles_Sunshine: 0.77477, 76.01871.

By charting her coordinates on a map in his Mental Library and her speed, Henry calculated her approximate time of her arrival. With him changing plans to await the siege, she was coming too quickly. Too soon, and the wolves might get a view of her sailing up the river and pass this information to The Wolf Emperor. Thus, he had her adjust her speed.

Next, he turned to Handsome Dan. “I’ll be escaping with the Instructor soon. If you want a departing gift, gather the bros to me.”

Not waiting for a response, Henry ran off, circling around the fort along its upper walls. At the south side, he stopped at the base of a watchtower, close to the position of the trainer evacuees.

On the ground layer of the fort, they looked as if they were queuing in front of an unremarkable patch of dirt. Hidden there, though, was the tunnel’s entrance, which had been masked by an illusion spell. The wolves, being Level 3 monsters, should be incapable of seeing through the trick.

Dan soon brought the meatheads over to the watchtower. “Big Bro, is this—”

“Time’s short," Henry cut him off. "First, give me back my hatchets.”

The meatheads bringing them out, he transferred them to his inventory. There was a chance he’d have to use them later.

“Next," he ordered, "bunch up around me. Tight.”

“Are we having a group hu—”

“It’s not that. Hurry up.”

The meatheads packed themselves around him, their much taller statures concealing him from outside observers. As he tore a Scholar stat scroll, the bunched-up meatheads were shrouded in golden quills.

“Big Bro, what does this mean?”

Henry replied while pushing his way out of the meat circle. “It’s a gift. Bonus stats. To utilise them best, I recommend distributing your across four or five attacks per 6-second cycle. Putting all the extra power into one would be overkill.”

More stamina efficient would be to reduce the total magnitude of the per cycle, but the meatheads lacked the necessary control.

Henry, grabbing a ladder to climb the watchtower, gave the meatheads a final tip. "The Wolf Emperor might have the ability to destroy the fort walls using its bite. If it does that, you guys be can be heroes by jumping into the breaches and trying to hold back the tide of wolves that’ll pour through. It'll be mad epic.”

He considered telling them to put on their armour, but the additional protection would be negligible relative to the bonus stats they’d received.

Lastly, Henry remembered to go against his instinct to leave without further adieu.

“Bros, broette,” he addressed them finally, the Russian girl still being held hostage, “it’s been a pleasure, but this should be the last we see of each other. The memories we’ve created together this evening, within the world of this impartial, well-designed videogame, I will cherish them for an eternity, and I hope you will as well as you set off for the many other thrilling adventures Saana has in store beyond this simple, ordinary tutorial. Go out there now, boys and girl, and give those wolves all you’ve got to give, and then give them some more. 110% effort! Gannbatte! Fighting! Kia kaha, as I've heard it's said in your land of New Zealand.”

The meatheads watched in mild stupefaction as he abruptly shimmied up the tower like a spider monkey.

"Bye, Big Bro!" Handsome Dan waved farewell. "Take care of Donkey Bro!"

As the meatheads returned to the front of the fort, their team captain, the Battleaxe Meathead, rubbed his chin seriously, mud flaking off.

He was unsure, but there seemed to be a subtle yet important implication in all this stuff Big Bro had talked about.

“Gareth," the captain called out, "you got any logs left over?”

The Glasses Meathead stepped forward. “INDEED! I have approximately,” he pushed his fake glasses up his nose bridge, "five.”

“Superb. Lay one out on the wall over here.”

After the Glasses Meathead obliged, the captain exchanged his wooden spear for his trusty Battleaxe.

His gaze passed studiously back and forth between the axe and the log, and then, trying his luck, he imbued his weapon with pulsating, glowing energy.

"Yahh!" he grunted, swinging his axe.

CRASH!

With a noisy bang, the log, a chunk of wall, and the axehead were smashed to smithereens.

The meatheads stared in shock.

The now Battleaxeless Meathead grinned from ear to ear. “Boys...we’ve got super strength.”